


Do you love me?

by Strawberry_Sweetheart



Series: Tumblr Drabble [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bet you didn’t think i would see your tag huh, Fluff, Someone yelled at me in the tags of a tumblr Drabble to post it on here so they could bookmark it, and now its my mission to copy my tumblr Drabble onto here as a series, bet you didn’t think i would do it, billy being cute in his sleep, fucking bet, sleep talker billy, so here it is, steve is so in love bro, touc of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Sweetheart/pseuds/Strawberry_Sweetheart
Summary: Do you love me?Do you love me like I love you?
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Tumblr Drabble [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703482
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	Do you love me?

_Do you love me?_

Steve breathes in deep the smell of him and Billy trapped in the sheets, smelling a bit like love, a bit like togetherness. It shouldn’t smell so good, Billy always carries the stench of tabacco and nicotine, and when the Camaro decides to be difficult, he’ll smell like oil underneath all that cologne. And Steve, well, Steve smells a bit like weed and and decaf coffee because caffeine makes him twitchy, so no, it shouldn’t smell good to have that under his nose.

And yet.

Billy sleeps on his stomach, arms under his pillows and head buried in it like he’s not afraid of suffocating in his sleep. The covers dip low around his hips, low enough that he can see the tan lines pale under the band of his underwear, giving Steve the full sight of Billy’s back. He can’t help the way he reaches out, tracing a finger along the line of muscles, finding amusement in the way Billy scrunches his eyebrows and protests through a muffled hum; he’s always complaining about something, even in his sleep. His skin puckers in goose bumps, shivers under Steve’s touch.

_Do you love me, like I love you?_

Steve’s hair is still a bit wet, blow drying it would mean waking Billy up and Steve couldn’t bring himself to. In the morning he’s sure his hair will stick up in awkward angles, frizzed to hell and forever defiant against a comb, and Billy will spend the day making it worse by running his hands through it. But for now, he drys the water the trails down his hairline and back one more time before crawling into bed. Steve sticks his feet under the covers, the air warm underneath, and scoots until he’s right next to Billy. He pulls the sheets up over both of them, up to their shoulders, and rests onto of Billy, hugging his waist and using his shoulder as a pillow. Steve rises and falls as Billy breathes.

He has days like these where the creeping doubt wakes inside him, pestering him continuously. This insecurity that makes the days a bit darker no matter how bright the sun shines or how blue the sky is, it hangs like his own little personal storm cloud that rains upon him, soaking deep through his skin. It’s the days where no matter how tight Billy holds him, how hard he kisses him — how gentle he loves him — it’s not enough to rub away the uninvited thoughts that play like endless background noise. And Steve can do nothing but ride out the storm and wait for it to stop raining, because it always stops and sleeps until it wakes again some other day.

Billy is mumbling something incoherent, Steve can feel the vibrations of his voice through his back. He never shuts up, does he? Always has something to say 24/7 and will make damn sure Steve knows about it. He lets out a breath through a soft curl of his lips, he loves this man so much, and tilts his head just so, places a kiss on his skin and burrows further under the blankets. Billy says something else, he must be arguing in his dream — he wouldn’t doubt it, he’s never met a man more passionate and opinionated and loud like Billy — because Billy lets out what sounds like a bitter scoff.

Steve hums in encouragement, “You tell ‘em, baby.”

_Tell me how you really feel._

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day, or maybe not and Billy will coax it out of him with fattening food and a soft, “What’s wrong, baby.” But Steve knows that one day will be a good day, and the day after that, and the next one and the next, until Steve’s forgotten how the bad days ever felt at all. One day, he thinks, one day the rain will stop, the thoughts will sleep again like they always do, but this time they’ll never wake up again.

One day he’ll never have to ask himself if he’s loved, because how can the answer be anything but — _Yes, I am loved_.

Steve doesn’t even notice when his eyelids fall close and his breath evens out. He falls asleep to the sound of Billy chattering away in his sleep and the steady heart beating against his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is @billy-baby


End file.
